


A Fleeting Dream

by Yozora



Category: Final Fantasy X
Genre: Braska's Pilgrimage, M/M, self-indulgent schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 03:07:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6035593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yozora/pseuds/Yozora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the Zanarkand ruins</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fleeting Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Because the thought ambushed me while listening to the song in question, and then wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it.
> 
> Also because Jecht/Auron ;3;

Their current situation be damned, the horribleness of it and their looming destination, but hell if Jecht wasn’t going to commit this moment to memory, imprint it there in full and remember it for as long as he lives.

Because he’d seen some things, some truly awe-inspiring, jaw-dropping moments during this journey but this…

It almost compares to the Moonflow (or more specifically, _Auron at the Moonflow_ , his mind supplies helpfully, making him smile at the memory), and yet…

_Not._

Though the masses and masses of Pyreflies are sight in and off themselves, lighting the ruins like a sea of stars, Jecht’s gaze is drawn somewhere else completely.

Auron.

The younger guardian’s face, despite the taut lines of grief and dread that have been steadily growing more obvious since the moment they reached the foot of Mt. Gagazet, is lit with open wonder and awe, his eyes wide and dark as they take in the Pyreflies floating and weaving around them, mouth hanging slightly open in breathless astonishment.

And damn if it isn’t one the most beautiful things Jecht has ever seen.

He watches as Auron almost reaches out at a passing Pyrefly, almost touches the tips of his fingers lightly to it, before stilling his hand, letting the Pyrefly float lazily past and around him, followed by its brethren. Auron’s eyes follow them for a while, Jecht can tell, a soft, _reverent_ look in the russet depths.

It makes something twist in Jecht’s chest, and in quick strides he moves to the younger guardian’s side.

“How ‘bout that, huh?” he grins, his voiced awed as he presses tightly against the shorter body, and as Auron looks down, their hands are clasped, fingers laced together before he knows how that even happened.

Auron turns his face back up, eyes still wide with an unfathomable expression in them as he looks at Jecht. “How about that, indeed.”

“You ever seen anything like this?” Jecht asks, though he feels the question might be a bit redundant considering the look on Auron’s face.

As expected, Auron shakes his head. “I could never have even imagined anything like this.” He looks back down, free hand lifted palm up as another Pyrefly circles it briefly. An almost gentle but solemn smile plays at the corner of his lips.

“Tell me about it…” Jecht mumbles, watching as the Pyrefly twists around Auron’s hand, almost resting on it for a moment. Of course, he’s not necessarily talking about just the scene around them.

The Pyrefly swirls mournfully away and Auron looks back up at Jecht, looking almost like he’s about to say something.

He never gets the words out.

Jecht’s hand, the one still not holding Auron’s, comes up to hold the side of the warrior’s face, fingers curling into the silky ink-black hair at the back of his head to hold him still as Jecht leans down to cover his mouth with his own.

Auron lets out a gasp, perhaps in surprise, perhaps in something else, and his hand flexes in Jecht’s, fingers tightening and squeezing harder. His other hand comes up, too, mirroring Jecht as it buries itself, familiarly, in the mop of the blitzer’s hair.

There’s a hint of almost desperation in the kiss, in the way Auron’s mouth responds to Jecht’s, in the way their bodies, as if naturally, gravitate and press against each other. It’s deep and heated, but gentle, _devoted_ , with an edge of the awe for their surroundings.

Jecht commits it, too, to his memory in full detail.

Auron’s skin is warm when Jecht pulls back to rest his forehead against his, and screw how sappy it sounds, but he’s going to cherish this _forever_.

“C’mon”, he says eventually says, feeling Auron’s answering sigh of an exhalation against his lips, before pulling the younger guardian along by their still-clasped hands. “Can’t let Braska fight all the fiends by himself.”

Auron almost manages a scoff of a smile at that, his fingers tight in Jecht’s hold.


End file.
